


On the seventh day of the eighth month

by laminated_newspaper



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Multi, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, fairytales - Freeform, my writing style is a man from the 1800's recounting a fairytale from his youth, so you can bet I'm going to put it to good use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laminated_newspaper/pseuds/laminated_newspaper
Summary: Excerpt from the compendium of the tales of Heiron and it’s happenings. Written by the mage Fletch Pickering in the year 43 A.E. (after Erasure) Little is known about the author who wrote these collection of 12 books that are kept in our archives. I cannot vouch for the verity of these stories,(You’ll be cross as I’ve recommended you another story with the urban legend Red Jack, I can’t seem to help it) however I’m coming to the realization that often times whether true or not, a story can shine a light into the sentiment of the author and their opinions about their history. There is a surprisingly favorable stance on orcish culture in this excerpt, uncharacteristic for most literature at this time, perhaps this is why the archives have kept it? The gods are displayed in a shockingly personal light, which leads me to believe that Pickering may have been a close friend of Samot. Perhaps a sentimental narrator misses the days of their youth? Read it and tell me your thoughts. -Tel





	1. In which Samothes meets the Wolf God

**Author's Note:**

> I have a long standing headcannon that the character classes are reincarnating legends and heroes throughout the course of Heiron's history, (Like the Bard, the Paladin, the druid) and I accidentally included it in the story, forgetting it's not actually canon. Oops!

On the seventh day of the eighth month, Samothes met the new wolf god for the first time, and hated him at once.   
It had been a fairly recent fact that Severia had been killed by this child, and in the absence of his aunt, Samothes had become lonely. As he had gotten older, in an attempt to seem more adult, he had stopped confiding in his adoptive father Samol, and instead turned to Severia for guidance. So, while she spent time reforming from her death, he had no one to talk to.   
He had occupied his time by pushing himself farther into his work, locking himself up in his vast forge and refusing the mortals who came to his door asking for help, shouting at them when they tried to ask about petty problems like food and adequate housing.  
He tried to talk with Galenica about simply anything at all, but despite being the closest in age to him, they were about as boring as the rock they were carved from. However, on the first day of the eighth month he learned two valuable things from Galenica: that Severia would reform within the coming decade, and that Samol had taken her murderer under his wing, and made them a god.   
It took a grand total of two hours for Samothes to cave in to his curiosity and resolve to pay his father a visit. Setting off with a design for a new instrument, a flimsy excuse for a visit to mask his true, petty, intentions, he left his mountain forge for his father’s mansion.   
Back in the days when Samothes was young, the world was new and great beasts roamed the earth inside of dense and wild forests. Samol, god of the earth, had built his home in the center of one of the said forests claiming that he “didn’t need more mortals wandering in my house” and that “the quiet helps me write my songs” because back in those days Samol wrote a great many songs about the earth and its inhabitants. 

On the second day of his travels, he encountered a great demon with limbs like tree trunks and horns that stretched towards the heavens. “ STOP WHERE YOU STAND TRAVELER, TELL ME WHO YOU ARE” boomed the demon and at once Samothes knew this was the demon Red Jack of legend and fable, the demon who drank hard, fought hard, and was known for razing whole towns. Back in the days before the ranger and their followers, Red Jack was an unchecked beast of violence and carnage, for we all know that in every age that the arrows of an archer are what ultimately calms the beast. Samothes was unwilling to be loving or patient however with a being such as Red Jack, but always willing to play tricks. “I am but a mortal boy, do not crush me ‘neath your large fists.” Samothes cried in mock horror.   
Red jack seemed wholly fooled by his fake pleading and laughed with a booming sharpness so it shook the surrounding trees “VERY WELL YOUNG CHILD, I MUST FIGHT YOU HOWEVER, I HAVE FOUGHT A GREAT MANY BEINGS AND I CRAVE TO ADD A HUMAN CHILD TO MY LIST!”   
“Wait brave warrior,” inquired Samothes “who else have you fought?”   
This question stunned Red Jack momentarily, for he had never had an opponent ask about his previous fights before “I HAVE FOUGHT MANY WARRIORS, THE MANY HEADED BOAR, THE ARMIES OF THE STONE GOD, A VERY LARGE CAT, A WHOLE TOWN OF ELVES, AND ALSO THE PALADIN HERSELF! AND THAT IS JUST THIS YEAR”   
“Well then surely this fight is unfair! You must give me a weapon to fight with!” Shouted Samothes “For as a mortal I am weak and couldn’t possibly last a minute in a fight!”   
Now whenever anyone refers to themselves as a mortal, it is generally not true, but when the world was young Red Jack was also much more stupid, and seeing the truth in this obvious mortal’s argument he bent over to retrieve his short sword to give to the child. Samothes was not a child however, and when the demon stooped low to pull out his sword, the god pulled out his forge hammer and loped Red Jack’s head clean off. It is said that when Samothes hit, he knocked the head off so far that it created a great crater, and that is the origin of one of the greater lakes in Hieron, but no one knows which it is. At that moment Samothes was not thinking of lakes, he was thinking of his own cunning nature. He laughed at the demon’s stupidity, and continued walking on his way to Samol’s home. 

On the next day Samothes came across a village of orcs in a large crowd around a modest home. Most were crying into embroidered handkerchiefs, some were praying, and others still seemed to be having a heated argument. Orcs were not among his domain as a god, which was usually a human sort of problem, but Samothes was convinced that if he could help them in whatever menial problem was ailing them, they would set up a temple in his honor. He approached the miserable group and asked the nearest orc what the problem was. She responded with a voice as deep as the strata “The bard has fallen ill, and no one knows how to cure her mysterious illness. With every day that passes, she lays in her bed and refuses to rise.” When the Samothes was young he had yet to learn from the secrets of mortals, and knew nothing of the diseases that could strike the mortals under his care. He remembered this fact and promptly made his mind to leave these townsfolk to their forlorn fate rather that embarrass himself in front of a bunch of mortals with his lack of medicinal knowledge.  
It was then however, just as he was leaving, when a voice raised up from the crowd. “Samothes, how nice of you to arrive to offer your help with the curing of our dear bard!” Ral Kend, the Duchess of unfinished epics and the first flowers killed by frost was short for an orc, but was a friend of Samothes in her youth, and was the kind of orc who considered those who should have been acquaintances to be good friends. “I thank you for your immense kindness fellow god, you did not have to come all this way just to help us!” Ral herself knew that Samothes wasn’t planning to help, but she was a cunning warrior on the only battlefield that truly matters to gods, getting others to do what you want. She swiftly linked arms with Samothes and much to the delight of the crowd and the displeasure of the god himself ushered the both of them into the cottage that he presumed to be the home of the bard.   
At that time the world had only known seventeen bards in the time since Samol sprung forth from the nothingness. Of all of the bards that graced the land, the seventeenth bard, by the name of Ona Lavender was known for her dramatic nature and incredible beauty. When she stood, she stood with the grace of a great pine tree and her skin was the color of deep green frogs, and when she sung it is said that Samol himself commended her skill. However, when Ral and Samothes entered her home, she was sprawled on her bed, piled high with blankets and unfinished poetry. “Oh leave me to my rot! I’ve been consumed by the beast that devours all and carves deep lacerations in my will to persist!” she cried as the two of them neared her bed. Samothes, at first glance could not discern what ailed her, he could not smell the stench of sickness around her, but she was pale beneath her blankets and had a look of immense anguish on her face.   
“Can you tell me where you ache Bard?” he inquired, to which she threw her hands in the air and wailed, causing the upset of a glass of water on her bedside table.  
“My Mind! My heart! My body! My soul! She has cursed every inch of my frail existence!” Ona cried as she buried herself back into the covers. “I believe I shall soon die as my every thought is consumed in the fires of her gaze.”   
Ral and Samothes exchanged an apprehensive look between each other before Ral asked. “Ona, who is this female you speak of? Is she a witch of some kind, who has the power to curse someone such as you?” she reached out to touch Ona’s shoulder. Ona shook off her hand with a shudder and sat up to begin swiftly gathering the papers around her on the bed with a frantic energy.   
“Her name, the bane of my existence, her sweet name…. is Liana…” she cried  
Ral gasped in horror “I know of her! I Shall bring her at once and demand she do something about this spell she has cast on Ona.”   
“Yes! Bring her to me so I can see her once more before I die!” cried Ona  
Ral swept out to cottage with a twirl of her dress and left Samothes alone with the crying Bard. The silence hung in the air like a set of velvet drapes, and in the absence of Ral’s poised presence wove its way into the awkward situation at hand. The Bard fell back into her pillows with a sigh, and turned to face Samothes.  
“Ingenuity alive, have you ever been so in love?”  
“I cannot say that I have,” He began, truthfully “love is hard for immortals. My fathe-, Samol has spoken to me of the dangers of falling in love with mortals, and I have seen Tristero in rages of anguish when another of his human paramours dies.”  
Ona turned away from him in favor of staring at the ceiling and sighing once more. “I hope you get a chance to one day, it is a most lovely thing to be graced with. Even if you know the one who you love will never love you in return.”   
When the world was young, Samothes had little experience making small talk, when she tried to talk to Samothes, he just shrugged at everything she said. So most of the time ended up being a one-sided conversation where Ona waxed poetic snippets about love and loss, and the god standing awkwardly by the door as they both waited for Ral to return with Liana.  
And return she did, in twenty minutes time she burst through the door gripping the arm of a half-orcish woman. Ral looked livid, and the woman, who Samothes could only assume was Liana had a look of confusion and horror on her face. Three things happened all at once as she burst in, Ona shrieked and hid beneath her blankets once more, Liana gasped, and Ral shouted in a thunderous voice. “NOW THAT WE HAVE ARRIVED, LIFT THIS CURSE YOU WENCH!”  
Liana twisted free of Ral’s grasp and sputtered “I don’t know what you speak of Dutchess. I am but a humble milk-maid, I couldn’t practice any dark magics.”  
“Then explain the curse you have placed on our very own Bard. She has fallen ill and blamed you for it.”  
“I have only ever talked to the Bard in passing, I am as proud as any other citizen that the bard has been crowned among our ranks, I wouldn’t dream of harming her!”  
“Then what is the meaning of Ona’s sickness?” Ral shouted, and all three of them turned to face Ona, who had wrapped herself in blankets like armor, with only her deep blushing face peeking through.   
“Liana, you should leave, I am within no fit state to be seen. I look like rubbish.” she muttered and began to get out of bed with her blankets still wrapped around her. Her face was as green as an unripe apple and was painted in a nervous smile.  
At once, both Ral and Samothes understood the mysterious sickness, and Ral threw her hands up in the air at the same time Samothes shouted. “You great fool! You’re not sick at all, you have just been infatuated with Liana, and too much of a fool tell her!” Both the younger women gasped at looked each other, Liana in a look of excitement, and Ona in a look of embarrassment.  
“Is it true Bard? I’ve been enamoured with you for the past few months but I could never dream that someone as lovely as you could fall for a milk-maid as plain as me?” she asked, barely above a whisper.   
Ona gripped her hands, “Nonsense! You are the most beautiful being I’ve ever met! Your skin is as green as freshly sprouted ivy, and your grace is unparalleled! When you walk by my home I am struck with your beauty and majesty. How could I not fall in love with a woman as beautiful as you?” she admitted as her voice rose in octave with each word.   
It looked as though she wanted to say more, but by then Liana had pulled her in for a kiss, and she was cut short. They both fell onto the floor together, and it was at this time that the two gods in the room deemed it a good idea to vacate the house before they saw something they didn’t want to see.   
“Mysterious are the ways of love my good friend.” sighed Ral, when she closed the door behind herself “I’m surprised of your adeptness in spotting Ona’s infatuation, have you become more romantically inclined since we last met? Started to pay more attention to your own feelings maybe?” She joked. In their short, mortal friendship it is said that her favorite joke was his own hermitage nature.   
“Love turns wise beings into fools, I’ll never fall to its grasp.” Samothes replied, already a few steps in front of the house. He made no motions to explain situation to the anxious crowd standing outside, who still thought the bard was ill. “I’ll let you explain the foolish idiocy of the bard to these people, and I’ll be on my way. I’m off on a journey to visit Samol.”   
“You really shouldn’t insult those of us stupid enough to fall in love Samothes, it doesn’t do well for making friends. And will be all the more hilarious when you fall prey to its swift grasp.” Ral replied, mostly to herself as She watched him go. He couldn’t hear her however, and continued on his travels. The town of Rocky Haven did erect a shrine to him later that year as he was hoping for. These days it is a popular pilgrimage sight for worshippers of Samothes and Ral alike. 

on the last day of his travels Samothes entered the forest, and was greeted by the druid. When the world was young there was only one druid, for a long while, no one knew to what race they hailed for they changed so many times, but they lived thousands of years. When Samothes entered the forest that Samol was residing, the druid appeared to him in the form of a lion, and bowed their great head towards the earth. “Hail Samothes, Ingenuity alive, it’s great to see you once again. My worms told me of your coming, but it took longer than they predicted, did you get sidetracked?” They smiled a sly smirk and turned into a common sparrow.   
“What is it any business of yours druid? Are you now my event planner?” Samothes replied bluntly, the Druid was known for their antics and he had no time for such games.  
“It is none of my business, however I do love a bit of gossip among gods!” They turned to a field mouse and began to scurry up Samothes’ pant leg. “Come Ingenuity! We shall travel together!” Samothes knew of the Druid’s playful nature and indulged them with a grumble as they came to rest upon his shoulder, being careful not upset the instrument strapped to his back.  
“If you love the gossip of gods so much, will you tell me about the newest one of all? I heard that they have been taken under the care of Samol.” Samothes had heard nothing of this new god, and wanted to know more about them before he hopefully met them at his father’s home.   
“The god was crowned a he, and I do not enjoy him at all!” was all they offered at first. They turned into a large city rat, cleaned their whiskers, and continued their story. “All he does is run about the forest and eat squirrels! I tried to introduce myself the other day, and do you know what the little devil did?” Samothes shook his head. “He ran away! Imagine the sheer audacity to run away from someone just wants to say hello! I’m nice, I haven’t led a traveler astray in decades!”  
“What else about him is there?” Samothes asked as he walked along the unmarked path to his father’s house. The Druid hopped off his shoulder and turned into a lynx midway to the ground.   
“He is small and mostly chooses to take the form of a human. Samol is taking care of him, but you already knew that. Oh, wait, I forgot about the worst part,” and they paused for effect “He wears Severia’s wolf skin around his neck, and runs through the forests as her sacred animal.” This made Samothes’ blood boil, the wolf was the patron animal of Severia, and for that monster to be wearing its visage after killing her? That was beyond disrespectful. He quickened his walking pace and steeled his face for his upcoming argument with his father.  
He may have steeled his face, by it was only the start of his hike, and he had many miles to go before he would reach his father’s house. In the meantime the Druid turned into many different animals and traveled about the forest alongside him, telling him of the gossip among the forest spirits.  
It had long since turned to night when the Druid suddenly stopped walking and stood in front of Samothes. “This is where I must make my leave, the little wolf god is nearby, and I don’t wish to meet him in his hunting grounds.”   
“What do you mean?” Samothes inquired “Do you really think that god is going to eat you?”  
“Not necessarily, but he isn’t a living thing quite yet.” they didn’t really elaborate until Samothes made a gesture for them to continue. “He’s certainly trying, but talking to him is like how non-druids talk to animals. He doesn’t really care all that much about life and death and the sacred balance of hunting, he might not even understand complex ideas yet. Plus, he still smells like a word eater.” They tried to shrug with their cat shoulders, but it didn’t really work so they stopped halfway through to turn into a lemur and finish the shrug correctly.   
The god sighed and replied “I can’t really argue with that Druid, would you like me to tell my father that you said hello?”  
“You should watch out for that wolf god, don’t trust him. Do say hello to Samol for me though” was how the druid replied, and with a quick transformation into a panther bird and a flap of their wings, they flew between the branches of the trees above and out of sight, leaving him in the darkened forest alone.  
Samothes had continued at a faster pace after the druid left, since he no longer had to slow down for their smaller stride, and covered many miles in little time. He passed by many large and curious creatures, but did not stop to make conversation with any of them. He did stop however when he saw the first wolf, standing in a field against the backdrop of the rising sun.  
The first wolf was the name of the cloak worn by Severia that granted her the appearance of the wolf, it was twice the size of any normal wolf, and was snow white. Seeing it backlit by the light, for a second Samothes mistook it for his aunt. They had a moment of eye contact in which Samothes waved, and the other god stared back with its unrelenting violet eyes. Upon the chilly greeting he remembered that the new god owned the cloak, and was overcome with anger and disgust. So, on the seventh day of the eighth month, Samothes saw the wolf god and in his anger, threw a rock at the god’s head.   
It didn’t connect however, the wolf god dodged out of the way and ran off back into the forest, but Samothes wished it had hit, and that was all that really mattered. He hurled many things at the god as he ran away, most of them were insults, and some of them rocks. When the god had ran out of sight and earshot, Samothes stopped to regain his breath and looked to see what the god had been doing before he chased him off. There was the remains of a dead squirrel on the ground and Samothes scoffed at the barbaric nature of eating a raw squirrel. Feeling quite high and mighty with himself, he continued on his way to his father’s home.   
Even when he was young Samol himself had built many houses all over the continent, and cycled through them as the seasons changed. Many travelers have claimed to discover a house built by Samol, and most of them are wrong. Samol’s summer house, where Samothes had walked to, was built into the side of a hill, similar to a halfling burrow, but twice as large and made with superior craftsmanship. His Summer home had beautiful garden around it with a whole variety of plants, for the god of Hieron can make any plant grow as he likes. Samol was tending his garden when Samothes emerged from the treeline, and stopped as his son came closer.   
“Hello boy, what a pleasant surprise to see you today!” he exclaimed as he propped his gardening hoe against a fence and pulled Samothes into a hug. He was indeed happy to see his son, but his feigned surprise was a lie, for Samol sees all, and had known of his son’s arrival as soon as Samothes left his forge a week before.   
“Father, I am too old for hugs!” Samothes protested as his father embraced him.  
“Nonsense! No one is too old for hugs, not even gods!” Samol let go with a smile, “You’ve grown since I last saw you, what a fine god you are becoming!”   
Samothes grumbled for Samol always said he had grown, even when he had not grown at all. Samothes had been prepared to discuss the subject of the new god with his father, and Samol knew this and wanted to do anything but that. He ushered his son inside, and asked the question that he knew would distract him “So boy, how have your inventions been doing? Have you worked on anything interesting lately?” Samothes immediately lit up and began to explain the wonders he had built in his holy forge. They talked for many hours about their lives. There used to be less things that happened in the early days, but mortals were all stupid and there were always their needs to attend to. Samothes eventually went to bed, even though he didn’t have to sleep, he enjoyed the feeling of sleeping at his father’s house. Before he fell asleep, he heard soft footfalls and what sounded like crying pass his door, but he merely blamed it on the wind, for the weather did act as though it had something to prove around Samol’s home. He also heard the closing of a door and his father’s voice singing lullabies from another room, which was not the wind, but lulled him to sleep.


	2. In which Samothes realizes he may be an ass, gets poisoned, and receives advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I found that I forgot to include the next chapter in my previous assembly, so I have enclosed it here. The number of Orcs in this tale sharply decreases, quite unsatisfactory. However, the text implies a relationship between the deities Severia and Galenica, quite interesting. I also hope you won't mind another story with a Wizard in it, their tales are sad indeed, but always have a compelling edge. I believe this text includes the third wizard, however I believe that Pickering may have gotten facts wrong relating to their age during this time period. On a sad note, I won't be able to procure the next chapter of this tale until Vola Crell has finished reading it (and who knows how long that will take with her reading pace), however I hope you can enjoy this one in the meantime. -Tel

In the morning Samothes awoke, similar to how the sun rises, slowly and quietly. He rose from bed and searched for his father to find him gardening outside. Samol was planting gloxias, and the wolf god watched, perched as a wolf on the stump of a tree just outside of the fence surrounding the garden. Samothes and the god made eye-contact which Samothes turned to a glare and the other god looked away in embarrassment.  
“Good morning my son,” Samol began “Samot here told me that yesterday morning you hurled rocks at him as he was hunting, what say you in your defense?” Samothes did not respond, and instead chose to cross his arms and stand where he was. “Would you like to apologise to him? ” Samol encouraged.  
“I have nothing to apologise for. I have done nothing wrong.” replied Samothes, and jutted his hip out to the side, similar to the mortal teenagers he enjoyed to mock. There was a minute of silence where the three gods refused to say anything, Samothes glaring at the wolf god, and Samol looking at the ground.  
Samol sighed and turned to the wolf god. “I tried boy, but it looks like he’s going to be an ass about it. Better luck in the future I suppose.” The wolf god nodded, and sprung off the tree stump and bounded into the surrounding forest.  
“I hope you’re happy child. I want you to know that Galenica had an easier time being nicer to Samot than you’ve done so far.” Samol announced.   
“Well then they are a fool. I’ll never associate with that beast.”   
“Alright Mr. stubbornness alive, come over here and help me garden if you’re going to take that stance about it.” Samol tossed his son a trowel and gestured to the garden he was working on. Samothes climbed over the fence, disregarding the little gate about four feet to his left, and knelt in the grass to his his father pull up weeds.   
They both worked together in silence for two hours or so, Samothes silently pulling up weeds and Samol trimming the tomato plants attempts to take over the garden. “His name is Samot.” Samol divulged after a while. “He’s no longer a beast or a word-eater, he is god, and his name is Samot.” Samothes didn’t respond and the silence stretched on. “Is this about Severia?” Samol asked. “Do you miss her? You know she’s not dead.”  
“Maybe it is about my aunt.” muttered Samothes and pulled up a plant that was more likely garlic than a weed. “Maybe it’s because she got killed by that word- eater and no one seems to care at all! Not Galenica, who’s her partner, and not you, her own brother!”   
“Don’t think for a second that I don’t care boy.” replied Samol, his voice a calm before the storm. The wind whirled around the two of them, whipping the trees and blowing Samol’s hat from his head. “I fought tooth and nail to bring her back from the Heat and the Dark. I battled hordes of word eaters and saved Severia’s soul from being destroyed. I didn't do it alone however, that boy came with me.” Samol was beginning to become angry, and Samothes regretted his previous bold statements. “That boy risked his very existence and betrayed all that he knew to help the world. He knew he had made mistakes, he apologized for them and he is working to do better. I understand that you miss Severia, but you will not take out you anger on Samot. You will not call him a word-eater and you will not disrespect him in my household.”   
“Fine!” shouted Samothes, jumping to his feet, “I’ll run out into the forest and never come back! I’ll disrespect him out there, and you shall not be able to stop me!” he took a running leap, jumped over the garden fence, and sprinted into the forest before Samol could stop him.

Samothes ran through the forest, and after several miles he began to cry. He kept crying as he ran, passing by the thousands and thousands of trees that grew in the forest. He ran past the druid, and did not stop as they called out to ask what was wrong. He only stopped running when he reached his old forge, the place where he first began to tinker and build. He paused and let himself catch his breath, letting the sobs flow out of him and his heartbeat calm down. He collapsed upon the mossy ground and screamed in frustration. The birds from the surrounding trees fled in fear, and if Samothes had been paying attention he would have heard the yelp of surprise from inside his abandoned forge. He didn’t however and continued to cry.  
“Hey, kid, are you alright? I’m not really good at healing magic, are you hurt?” asked a kind voice from the doorway of the forge. Samothes shot to his feet a furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes. When the world was young, most mortals couldn’t recognize the gods faces, but Samothes’ pride kept him from crying in front of one.   
“I’m fine” He growled “Who are you?” he looked up and glared. The person looked about the size to be a human, her purple robes hung over her shoulders and even from a distance Samothes could see that she was covered in gnarled scars that snaked across her face and arms. her blond hair was cut incredibly close to her skull and the crooked glasses she wore balanced precariously on what was left of her nose.   
She was smiling kindly to him however, and responded with a blush and a nervous scratch to the back of her head. “It’s not often that someone doesn’t recognise me, I’m told that I’m quite iconic.”  
“Well forgive me for not knowing of every person who makes a home out of the Sun god’s forge. What is your name?” Samothes chose to pretend to play dumb, and not acknowledge that he was a god. It was nice sometimes to talk with mortals and have them not know or care that he was divine.  
“Oh, so that’s what this is” the woman responded, avoiding his question. she turned around and tipped her head back to gaze at the crumbling ruins. “we’ve just been hid- I mean I’ve just been living here for the past month or so and had no idea what this place was. Thanks for telling me kid.” and she turned back to him “Are you lost? What’s your name?”   
“Believe I asked that question first.” retorted Samothes.  
The pair both stared at each other, and didn’t move until the human remarked “Well, I guess we’re at an impasse my secretive acquaintance. However, since I consider myself a kind sort of lass, I say we both keep our names private and I invite you inside for tea.” Samothes shrugged and nodded and as she slipped back into the forge, he followed her. He had nothing to fear, it would have taken more than any random mortal to destroy and god, and in his youth Samothes was much more daring.   
The front rooms were darkened as pair passed through them, probably so no outsiders could not see that anyone lived there. Four rooms down the main passageway was when it began to look more lived in. Inside of what used to be his smelting room was covered in bright swatches of fabric and notes pinned to the walls. Anatomical sketches of animals and people littered the floor and the woman tutted in disapproval “Always leaving stuff about on the floor,” she sighed, almost too quiet for Samothes to hear had he not been a god. “what am I going to do with them?” The woman gestured to the low table in the middle of the room as she cleared the papers off the floor “Sit down on one of the cushions”  
By the time Samothes sat down, she had put away the papers and was pulling a tea kettle away from a makeshift stove that used to be where he would smelt iron. “We’ve only got two flavors to choose from, and only one really because the other one helps with my indigestion and doesn’t taste very good at all. So I guess you’re getting black tea.” She said as she placed the tea kettle on the table and extracted two cups from the folds of her coat to place on the table as well.   
“Thank you.” replied Samothes as he took the tea brick and shaving knife from her hand. He shaved off a few chunks into the strainer she had placed on top of his cup and passed them back to her. She took them to disappear back into the folds of her coat. He poured water into his cup as she waited patiently, and passed the kettle to her after he was done. After the two of them finished prepping their tea they sat in silence.   
“I know I may have been a bit strange before, but you can tell me if you’re lost kid. There’s not any towns around at least a two days hike.” the woman tapped her gnarled fingers on the table, Samothes noticed she was missing three fingers on her left hand and one on her right. He didn’t respond and instead sipped at his tea. “Please kid, it gets really unsafe around these parts after dark. Are you running away from home?” Samothes flinched and the woman immediately picked up on it. She sighed and took a tentative sip of her tea. She whispered “Do you want to talk about it? No one runs away for no reason.” and took another sip.  
“My father hates me. He lets a monster into the house and now he loves him more than me.” he muttered into his teacup.  
“New siblings are hard aren’t they? I have a younger sister, and when she was born I was convinced that my parents no longer loved me.” The woman looked forlornly at the table, not making eye contact.   
“What happened? Did you drive her out of the house? Throw rocks? Call her names?” Samothes leaned forward.   
“Heavens no!” the woman had scoffed “It wasn’t like that, my parents loved me a lot. Just because they cared about my sister didn’t mean they didn’t care about me. I learned that, and my sister and I got along just fine after that.”   
“Oh, okay”  
“Your dad doesn’t hate you kid, he loves you very much, and he’s gonna miss you a lot when you’re gone.” she wiped at her eyes. “I’m really sorry.”  
“What are you talking about?” Questioned Samothes, he may have tried to be stoic with mortals on most occasions, but the woman’s sudden tears had made him uncomfortable.  
“I poisoned your tea… Knightshade… about enough to kill anything short of a god...” she sobbed “I’m sure you’re a great kid, I just can’t have you telling anyone we’re here. The Gunslinger would kill Aster and I can’t have that happen, they mean too much to me. I’m so so sorry.”   
Samothes felt sick to his stomach, not because of the knightshade, for gods are not felled by mortal poisons, but by the woman’s apology, and the mention of her partner.  
“Aster, The Wizard?” Samothes gasped. “You must be their wife, Vivienne! All of Hieron has been looking for you two for the past five years!” He gestured wildly at her “Do you know how many people want you and your lover dead? The Gunslinger herself has vowed not to rest until she’s killed you both!”   
“Back off.” Called a voice from behind him “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you lay a hand on my wife I can promise you a death far more painful that the one you’ll get from nightshade.” Samothes whirled around and caught the first glimpse of the wizard that anyone had seen in the past five years. Aster Astra was the third wizard to have lived in Hieron when the world was young. They had many vile rumors spread about them in their painfully short lifetime, as all Wizards must endure along with the pain and power, and the god half expected them to be a demon, or an ogre of some sort. What greeted him instead was the Gnome Wizard themself, dressed in their legendary purple and red robes, their auburn hair whipped around them and they raised their hands in warning. Despite the fact that they were half his size Samothes was momentarily shocked by the Gnome’s intense glare.   
“Aster,” Vivienne cried “run, I think he’s a bounty hunter!”   
“I’m not leaving you darling!” Shouted Aster, and winked at her “I promised to never leave your side through heat or dark and some teenager isn’t going to make me break that promise!”  
Samothes stood, threw his head back, and laughed “I’m not going to turn either of you in, hold your horses!” He held out his hands to both his sides. Both of the couple stared in disbelief at him.  
“I don’t believe you.” scoffed Aster.   
Samothes sighed and dusted at his pants. “Vivienne, we wanted to know each other’s names, and now that I know yours, it’s only fair you know mine. But before I do, will you indulge me two foolish questions?”   
She nodded, but replied “The poison shouldn’t take much longer, I don’t see the point.”  
“Why do you choose to love a monster? How do you love them despite what they’ve done to the world?”   
“Because they aren’t a monster at all, kid. Because there are no monsters in this world, just people who have done worse than others and the ones worth loving are ones who work to fix their mistakes.”   
The god sighed “My name is Samothes, Ingenuity alive, the once and future king of Hieron, the undying fire, the crafter of the sun.” He had not needed to state more than his name for the pair to recognise him, but he enjoyed shocking them, just for a little bit.   
“I don’t wish to bother you, I’m a little bit offended that you attempted to poison me, but I let it slide because you gave me valuable advice. You’ll both have to face the gunslinger eventually, and I hope that Tristero is gentle on your souls when you do. I will make my leave and I will tell no one of your whereabouts.” He bowed to the both of them, a courtesy they returned, and he strode out his former forge. He could hear the two embrace as soon as he left, kissing each other and crying in disbelief, and he had felt sad for some reason he could not yet understand.

Samothes returned to his father’s house long after the sun had set. He pushed open the door and slunk through the hallways on a silent path to his room. Passing by the dining room he saw Samol sitting at the table alone, eating dinner and humming to himself. He turned over Vivienne’s advice in his head, and thought of her sorrow and love. Samothes planted his feet in the doorway to the dining room and placed his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry for being mean and making you upset father.” he stated “I’m going to be better in the future.”  
“Not the one you should be apologizing to boy, I appreciate the sentiment however. You should be apologizing to Samot” Samol responded with an indifferent stab to the pasta he was eating.   
“I’m going to bed, I’ll apologize tomorrow.” muttered Samothes and turned to go to his bedroom and sleep.  
“Only one apology a day?” Samol called after him from the dinner table  
“Yep!” He responded and closed door to his room.  
The wind had been quieter that night, and Samothes heard his father’s guitar playing outside. It had conjured memories of lullabies and many many years of his divine childhood. Samothes laid awake most of that night, staring at the ceiling of his room, thinking about love and foolish people, and the the wolf god, Samot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop thinking about wizards, guys..... gnomish wizards....... chaotic gnomish wizards.......chaotic non-binary gnomish wizards.......chaotic non-binary gnomish wizards who are the run from the law with their girlfriend......


	3. In which Samothes becomes the god who apologized to the word-eater who apologized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I certainly had to go through great lengths to ascertain this chapter! Vola Crell was quite unwilling to part until she had finished reading, however I bribed her with a glass doorknob, three acorns freshly sprouted, and the feather of a bird that has already died, for a pattern of hers. Unbeknownst to her, I needed to give away three items smaller than a horse saddle for a pattern of my own! This chapter (if factual) sheds an interesting light into the private dynamics of gods. How rare it is to read a tale where the gods to more than save the day and dole out wisdom. Anyway, I attempted to research the trees mentioned in this chapter, but couldn't find any other examples of them in any of the stories I've read. A few more hours of pedantic hunting was unfruitful and I believe that it is because this story is really and truly a fantasy. (I expect you to pay me back for the doorknob, acorns, and feather.) -Tel

On the next morning Samothes had awoken like the sun once more, brightly and steadily. He had put a jacket on, even though gods have no need for jackets or coats, and walked straight into the living room.  
Samol was knitting a scarf and had not looked up as he responded “Samot is out in the forest today.” Samothes turned mid-stride, and walked out of the living room. He walked straight out of the house, and pausing to grab a tomato from the garden, he strode out into the forest to confront Samot and to hopefully apologize.  
He trekked many miles throughout the forest, but at a slower pace so it would be easier for Samot to spot him. He passed a panther bird perched on a high branch of a madrone tree. “Good Morning!” called Samothes. “Have you seen the wolf god around here this morning?” The bird did not respond. When the world was young all animals could talk to mortals and gods if they did so choose, but like all beasts and beings, some animals simply could choose to ignore.  
“Hey! Answer me!” Samothes was offended that they didn’t want to talk to him. He had been about to call once more when the bird ruffled its feathers and split apart and flew in all directions as if escaping.  
“If you can grab ‘em before they split and squeeze their necks they’ll talk to you”  
Samothes whirled around and spotted a human boy in the branches of an old oak tree. The boy was skinny and small, with limbs that would have been delicate had they not been corded with muscle. He had long blond hair that was matted with sticks and leaves caught inside. His feet were bare, and from what samothes could see, he wore nothing but a pair of ripped shorts and a white fur cape. He wasn’t the Druid, Samothes knew that, they had the same small build in their mortal form, but they had dark skin usually a better clothing sense.  
“Don’t you know that hurting animals isn’t nice? Anyone who talks to you under the duress of violence has nothing valuable to say.” Samothes said. He crossed his arms and turned his head up towards the boy. He passively noticed that despite his dirty appearance, the boy was rather cute, in a way that Samothes found exciting.  
“Yeah, that’s what Samol said too…” and the boy picked at his fur cape. “He also says stuff like that I need to be nicer and use my words when I want something instead of just hurting and breaking stuff.”  
“How do you know Samol? Who are you?” Not many mortals knew of the gods, few of all Samol, for Samothes knew ever since living things had been alive, Samol had always done his best at avoiding them, hiding in forests, far from mortals.  
The boy laughed, rocking back and forth on his tree branch “You’re strange Samothes, you know enough to call me a “dirty word-eater bastard” not two days ago, and yet you don’t even know my mortal form!” This had caused Samothes to blush in discomfort and embarrassment when he realized that this was Samot’s human form. Samot continued to laugh, at Samothes’ embarrassment.  
“It’s not that funny.” and Samothes scratched his head.  
“Hmmm, okay, I’m sorry. Sometimes I laugh at things that aren’t funny and Samol says it’s a bad thing. I laughed when I killed one of the bears that wandered to Samol’s house and he said it was creepy, and I probably shouldn’t do it.” Samot stared at Samothes whenever he talked, he barely blinked as well, as if he didn’t know what was the appropriate time to do it. Unwilling to make eye contact, Samothes instead stared at the ground with an unwarranted intensity.  
“Look Samot, I’m supposed to tell you something. Samol wanted me to tell you, and also I want to.” He wrung his hands in a way that was very much like a human and unlike a god. “I want to apologize for being mean to you.” There was a pause in which none of them said anything.  
“Okay then,” Samot responded “so apologize.”  
“I just did!”  
“No you didn’t. You said that you wanted to but you didn’t.”  
“Okay, fine, I’m sorry! I was mean and you didn’t really deserve that!” Samothes looked up, trying not to look angry. Samot was hanging from a branch by his hands. He blinked owlishly, and dropped to the ground below.  
“I accept your apology Samothes, Ingenuity alive, Once and future king of Hieron, undying fire, crafter of the sun.” His purple eyes drilled into Samothes, and he found it uncomfortable. Samot took a step closer and bowed and his waist, a deep and sweeping motion that Samothes had only seen done by mortals and those imitating them.  
“That’s how they do it in the books that Samol read to me.” smiled Samot. “I hope we can become good friends and you can hunt squirrels and eat them with me like friends do.”  
Samothes jumped, “Sure thing Samot, I’m gonna go now!” he quickly sprinted back to Samol’s house out of embarrassment, and his desire not to eat squirrels.

Two days later, Samothes wandered out into the forest again. He had found that Samot did not spend much time in Samol’s house. “He only comes here to sleep every so often, lately I’ve been trying to get him to take a bath, and so he’s avoiding me.” was all Samol chose to offer to his son on the subject.  
When there was the prospect of spending time with someone like himself Samothes found it hard to stay indoors with his father. The simple pastimes of Samol were no longer as interesting to him as they used to be.  
The forest that Samol had built his summer home in was a forest of the tallest trees. They stretched towards the heavens and never lost their leaves, even in the winter. Samol had liked them for their red wood, and Samothes liked them because they were tall. He was a third of the way through climbing one and about eighty feet above the ground when he heard Samot speak.  
“There’s theses little squirrels that live in these Redwoods that taste really good, if you can catch them that is.” Samothes had jumped and looked to Samot perched on another branch of a nearby tree. The god was covered in mud and blood, but looked quite unbothered by it. He scratched at his head, and smiled in Samothes’ direction. Its was a lovely smile, Samothes had flustered because of it.  
“I don’t like eating raw meat, it’s gross.” bluntly replied Samothes, as he kept climbing upwards so he could avoid letting Samot know he was blushing.  
“Don’t like raw meat? Is it another one of those things that I think is good, but other people don’t think so?”  
“What do you mean?” wheezed Samothes after climbing onto a higher branch.  
“Well sometimes I do things and Samol explains to me that it’s not a thing that people like. When I first came back, I used eat things that aren’t edible, like rocks and furniture. That made Samol angry when I chewed on his couch.” and he had poked at his teeth as if to indicate that they were sharp. “When Galenica visited, I gave them a dead deer to show that I thought they were cool. It just made them upset and sad thought, Samol told me that they didn’t like when people killed animals because it made them think of Severia.” Samot had been listing off his issues on his fingers between climbing, but Samothes cut him off with a grunt of affirmation and a “Yep those do sound like things people don’t enjoy a lot.”  
The pair climbed another ten feet in silence before Samot spoke up again. “How do I get you to like me?”  
“What do you mean Samot?” Samothes said in confusion. He was careful not to look at the other god for fear of unwittingly blushing again.  
“I want to be friends, and I want you to like me. You don’t like me though and I’m having trouble finding out why.”  
“I dunno.” shrugged Samothes, and he moved to sit in a place where the branch was wide enough to perch comfortably. He looked down at Samot to see his wide purple eyes staring in rapt attention “I miss Severia a lot, and I know it’s not really your fault that you killed her, but I’m still sad about it. I’ll work it out, you’ve just got to give me some time I guess.”  
“I’m so sorry!” Blurted out Samot in a way very unbefitting of a god. “I’ve apologized a hundred times and I’ll do it a hundred more if that’s what it takes!”  
Samothes sighed, he didn’t really know what to say “Thank you, it’s nice to hear you say that. Don’t worry too much, I already think you’re nice.” and he crouched to start climbing again, he could see the top of the tree in the distance. No one spoke again until they had almost reached the tops of their respective trees.  
“My tree isn’t as tall as yours, can I jump over?” called Samot.  
“Sure!” returned Samothes as he stopped climbing to look down. Samot swung over from the top of his tree, and for a moment Samothes was sure he would fall to the ground, but the smaller god landed with grace a few feet below him, causing the tree to sway.  
Soon they had both reached the top of their tree and stared out onto the expanse of Hieron before them. Gripping each other to stay balanced, the world seemed to narrow down to the two of them and simultaneously become immensely vast. In the distance Samothes saw the peaks of mountains and the silvery glitter of the ocean. He saw towns and cities, ones he had been to a ones he had not. He could feel Samot gripping his shoulders, and feel the tree sway beneath them. For a moment the two of them just gazed out on the landscape, and at the same time they said two different things.  
“Wow the view is great.” sighed from Samothes  
And “Can I kiss you?” blurted from Samot.  
They both turned to each other and turned beet red. “Wait, what? Why?” queried Samothes, as he shakily turned to face Samot and also not fall off the tree.  
“You’re beautiful and I’ve never kissed anyone. You remind me of the sun, and since I’ll never kiss the sun, I’d like to know what its creator tastes like.”  
Samothes stared dumbstruck. “What?” he repeated dumbly. He had thought of Samot as cute, but until that moment had not even thought of kissing him.  
“Samol has told me all about you when I was becoming a god and you’re super cool. You’ve been a bit mean but also kinda nice and I like you a lot! I’ve really wanted to kiss you because you’re pretty and you’re my age, and also pretty! Your hair is curly like my favorite kinds of sheep, and your taller than me which is nice. I don’t want to do something that I like but you don’t like, so I wanted to ask. I don’t want to mess this up! You don’t have to kiss me, you probably don’t like me, I took this too fast, I’m sorry!” and he twisted in Samothes’ grasp, rocking the tree. “I’m so sorry, you’re gorgeous and I’ve messed it all up!”  
“Wait, it’s totally fine.” Samothes could feel the tree lurch dangerously to the side as Samot wriggled and panicked. He had wanted to continue, had wanted to Samot it was fine, and he’d be happy to give him a kiss, that he was sweet and hadn’t messed up at all, but the tree bent once more and he slipped.  
The tallest of the Redwood trees was five hundred feet tall when Hieron was young. That tree had not been the tallest, but it had been rather close, and Samothes fell the whole four hundred and seventy feet all the way to the ground. On the way down he tried to grasp at branches, on anything that could have slowed his fall, but couldn’t do more than flail. As Samot’s grief stricken face disappeared out of view the god of the sun became sad, he hoped that he wouldn’t die and embarrass himself. He hoped that Samot wouldn’t think it was his own fault as well. Then, Samothes collided with the pinecone covered floor of the forest, and he promptly fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> self care is writing this chapter instead of studying for my midterm finals!


	4. In which Samothes does a lot of thinking and thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ridiculous! Amphibian! Overgrown Goblin! Vola Crell had "forgot" to tell me that she didn't include the ending of the story, more likely she had to preform at trick on someone to complete a pattern and took me for a fool! You'd best believe that I'll be sabotaging a pattern of hers in the next few weeks! Who does she think I am? On a contrary note, Crell said she found an extra slip of paper among the story as she was reading it, she thinks it may be a letter from a fan of pickering that was written around the time they published The Tales of Heiron and its Happenings. I think she is full of bullshit (if you'll pardon my language). Anyway, I am expecting your opinions and interpretations of the story when you have finished it! -Tel

Samothes did not die, for back when the world was young, none of the gods ever died unless the Heat and the Dark was trying very hard. However, he did meet Tristero.  
“Ah hello nephew!” Tristero smiled “what happened to you?”  
“I was climbing the Redwood trees.” Samothes groaned “I lost my balance and fell.”  
His uncle lifted Samothes and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. “That doesn’t sound fun at all!”  
“On the contrary,” replied Samothes from the crook of Tristero’s shoulder “it was rather fun until I fell.” Tristero laughed, and Samothes couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t often he had the chance to visit his uncle, between Tristero’s duties and his vacationing in Nacre. He enjoyed every time he did though, for the hugs and the kind words.  
“Anything fun happening besides falling to your death?”  
“Oh, nothing much.” Samothes shifted in the hug, resting his head on his uncle’s chest “I’m visiting Samol’s summer house right now. It’s good to see him”  
“Is he still caring for that little wolf kid?”  
“Yep, he still is.” and he chuckled at the idea of Samot being a little wolf kid.  
“Is the kid nice? I told Samol it might be an unwise idea to crown him a god, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” Tristero pushed away Samothes, just for a second so he could look into his eyes.  
“Oh yeah, he’s super nice.”  
Tristero squinted at him, and then shrugged. “Fine then, that’s good.” He rested Samothes’ feet on the floor of his throne room and let go of the hug. The two of them smiled at each other for a second, however Tristero was not the type of god who liked standing still, back then or in any age of Hieron. “So-” he exclaimed, with an anxious smile and a pat of his own thighs “-anything we need to talk about before I send you on your way? Sorry you can’t hang out longer, but you know how it is with work.”  
“How is Serveria doing?” Samothes tried not to let his anxiety show through his voice, tried to act mature and stoic, but he could hear that his voice sounded small and pathetic.  
“Oh she’s doing well!” Tristero reassured. He clapped his hands together. “She recently gained enough strength to tell me to fuck off when I asked if she was alright, so I’m taking that as a good sign.” Samothes chuckled, that certainly sounded like something that Severia would do. Craving another hug, he embraced his uncle one more time, squeezing his midsection in a way that would hopefully convey how much he loved him.  
“Alright then kiddo, I’ll send you on your way. Send my regards to my brother for me!” Tristero gave his nephew one last squeeze and lifted him up into the air. Samothes left the throne room of death in a flash of blinding light, and awoke in his bed at Samol’s home.

The Druid cried “Behold, the sun has risen!” as a greeting. They flapped their Hooded warbler wings and flew out of the chair they had been sitting on. Samothes could only reply with a groan and to turn his head in their direction. His throat was dry and he had felt as though his body had been run through a clothing ringer. “You were out for a whole day Samothes, Samol told me that he and the wolf child had to scrape you off the floor of the forest with a wooden spatula!” They hopped on the pillow around Samothes’ head, occasionally bowing to peck at his hair. The Druid often picked up the habits of the animals they turned into, Samothes was used to this, so He let them hop up on his head, and let out bird-like chirps of happiness.  
“I’m not sure it was that bad.” was the god’s response when he finally plucked up enough strength to say anything.  
“Oh it was that bad.” replied Samol from the doorway to his room. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “When Samot came back to the house bawling I had just thought you had gotten stuck in one of those dragon caves again or had gotten eaten by a bear. It turns out that you keep coming up with new ways to knock yourself to the palace of the dead.”  
“Speaking of which, Tristero says hello.”  
Samol could only respond with a sigh as he slapped his palm against his face.  
The Druid chattered “You look as sick as a plague victim! It’s going to take you a long while regenerate again!” and twisted their body into a Bobcat. They tried to pounce up onto Samol’s shoulder but he caught them mid-air and dropped them on the ground. They meowed indignantly in response.  
“Where is Samot?” Samothes wondered, half to himself and half out loud when he noticed that the little god was nowhere to be seen. He wanted to apologize for dying before he had a chance to respond to Samot’s question.  
Samol sighed and grimaced, “In self-imposed exile. He said that this whole thing was his fault and he’s going to throw himself off a cliff.”  
“Should we worry?” Inquired Samothes.  
“No, most likely he’s waiting off in the trees surrounding the house, waiting for someone to announce that you’ve woken up.” Samol smiled at his son’s distressed facial expression and patted Samothes on the shoulder gently “He’s done this many times before.”  
Even in his tiredness Samothes attempted to rise from bed, pulling his blankets along with him “I can go tell him that I’m fine.” He got about two steps away from the bed before he felt his knees buckle and he almost fell over.  
“Nope,” Samol guided his son back into bed “ you’ll stay in bed. The druid can go and tell him.”  
“Yeah, since I’m already keen to be far away from that guy.” the druid griped “He gives me the hibbie jibbies.” they turned into their mortal form and shuddered their tiny shoulders. The Druid jumped from off the bed and shuffled dramatically down the hallway, acting as though every step pained them.  
“Will you go and collect some more wood for my stove while you’re out?” Samol called.  
“Yeah sure.” the Druid held a hand up to their forehead in a mock swoon but kept walking out “Might as well turn into a pack mule and never turn back at this point.”  
“Oh, stop being so dramatic.” Samol put his hands on his hips.  
“Thank you!” added Samothes from the bed. He rested his head on the pillow and let his muscles relax. He didn’t really want to fall asleep again but he knew that, in the way all gods do, lots of sleep would help his body gain its usual strength again.  
“Alright you troublemaker, just because you’re not the youngest god anymore doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop lecturing you.” Samot leaned over his son and began to tuck the blankets back over him. “You gave all of us quite the scare you know. It’s very rare that I’ve seen Samot cry like that. The boy is usually pretty stoic when it comes to death and the sort, I’m shocked at how much he worried about you” Samothes sunk into the blankets and tried not to blush.  
“I’m just gonna sleep again. I want to be as fine as possible as soon as possible.” that was true, but Samothes also didn’t want to slip up and accidently tell his father all about what happened with him and Samot. Samothes enjoyed hoarding secrets as he enjoyed hoarding knowledge. Samol sighed and pulled the curtians of the room shut. He leaned over and gave Samothes and kiss on his forehead, and quietly walked out of the room.

When Samothes awoke again, he had hardly noticed he fell asleep in the first place. The room was dark, as it was nighttime and there appeared to be nothing else in the room. The moonlight shone through the window that was open above him, letting in a slight breeze and the sound of summer crickets screaming for attention. Samothes spent a sleepy moment pondering if Samol had truly closed the window and shut the blinds before, of if he had just imagined it. There was a shuffling on the rug across the room and Samothes sat up as straight as a rod.  
“I’m sorry.” Samot was crouching at the foot of Samothes’ bed. He looked a lot cleaner than he had before, no longer covered in mud and blood, his long hair had been brushed into soft blond waves, and he was wearing a set of linen pajamas. His face was red and puffy in the moonlight, it was obvious he had been crying.  
“I didn’t see you there!” Samothes relaxed his back, and smiled at his little blond visitor.  
“I’m sorry.” Samot’s eyes became watery, and his face scrunched into a childlike grimace as he started to cry again “I’m so so sorry for killing you.”  
Samothes waved his arms in a placiating gesture “I’m fine, there’s no need to apologize. Don’t cry!” He really didn’t want Samot to cry.  
Samothes’ best efforts were in vain as the other god began to cry harder “I thought, I mean, I thought that when you died it would take you a long time to come back and all.” he gasped between sobs “I thought I had killed you like I killed Severia.”  
“You didn’t kill me, I fell on my own.” Samothes shuffled to the foot of his bed and placed his hands on Samot’s shoulders “I’m fine, it takes a lot more than a silly tree to really take me out of action. Someone would have to try really hard if they wanted to kill me permanently or something like that.” He did his best approximation of a confident smile he could muster, and hoped that did the trick.  
“Okay.” the other god wiped his snot on his shirt sleeve and mirrored back a watery grin. His eyes were the most vibrant purple that Samothes had ever seen.  
Samothes sighed “Look, here, you can come and sleep here with me if you like.” he shifted back and pulled back the blankets. Samot nodded silently and slid under the covers on his left side. The two gods lied next to each other, as far apart as the edges of the bed would allow. One hot as a flame and the other cold as ice, one nervous and the other trying not to cry. Samot rubbed his nose again and sniffed a couple times, Samothes cringed at the snot. They both yawned at the same time. Samothes shifted to lie on his back, and stared at the curved ceiling. It was many long moments before Samot broke the silence.  
“The druid doesn’t like me.”  
“They’re kinda prickly anyway, don’t take it personally.” Samothes Yawned “Before they came here they didn’t have a lotta friends and weren’t liked that much, they sometimes forget that not everyone hates them for what they are.”  
“You still like me, right?”  
“Yeah, definitely.” he blushed, hoping that Samot wasn’t looking at his face too closely. There was another, longer silence. He had been thinking about Samot’s question since it first came up, he wondered if Samot was thinking about it too.  
“Hey Samot.”  
“Yeah.”  
“May I still take you up on that kissing offer?”  
“Sure, if you’d still want to I guess.” Samot sniffled again. Looking over at him, Samothes noticed that the other god had in fact been staring at him as he blushed.  
The two gods sat up in bed, and for the first time in a many ages, Samothes was worried about looking stupid. Samot seemed to be vibrating with nervous energy and in the moonlight his blond hair almost glowed like a halo.  
Both resolved get over their nervousness and move in for the kiss at the same time.They both came at each other’s faces a little too fast in the dark which resulted in a smashing of noses more than any approximation of a kiss. A burst of pain shot through Samothes’ nose, and even though he was a god who could withstand pain, he gasped in shock at the surprise of it.  
The force of their collision caused them to bounce back apart and Samot giggled in reaction. A moment of eye contact caused them both to giggle at the absurdity of the situation, two almighty gods who just smashed faces because they were overeager for a kiss.  
“Okay, let’s try that again.” Samothes blustered. Then he started giggling again, and they lost a few more minutes to laughter. Samot eventually stopped laughing enough to cup his hands on Samothes’ cheeks. They leaned in slower this time and made sweet contact.  
Since the beginning of Heiron kisses have been the start of bonds, between people and also between worlds. As all others were and will be, that kiss was also a bond. A bond between the forest and the forge, between the wolf and the sun, between knowledge and the sharing of it, between the god Samothes and the god Samot. A bond that said “We are both together in this, we may be arrogant and flawed, but we shall be together”.  
They broke apart and Samothes smiled once more. “Hey, that was okay.”  
Samot smiled and responded “I don’t know about you, but I really could go for another.”  
So, on the thirteenth day of the eighth month, Samothes found that the more he kissed the wolf god, the more he enjoyed it, and the more he wanted to do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note from the "fan" included at the end of the story
> 
> “Oh dear, reading this over now reminds me of how awful I was when I was young. I miss the redwoods of that world, I don’t think they grow that tall in this strata. I was so enamored with him as a child (and I still am) it’s quite ridiculous to think how irate he’d be to know I’m sharing our little secrets now that he’s not around to stop me. He used to be so stubborn about not telling anyone our little soft memories, I worry that no books will record that we were in love in the first place. I’m surprised he ever stopped to indulge me with any sort of relationship considering all my mud, blood, and flaws. Enough sentimentalities! I wanted to tell you that it’s nice that you’re doing this Fletch dear, and reading this brought some joy back into this old, sappy, and romantic heart of mine. I realize that I’ve given you much information about the parts of the story where I’m there and little to nothing on the parts where it’s just him traveling, thank you for bearing with the ridiculous ramblings of an old and lovesick man. May you, sweet Fletch, be blessed with someone who loves your mud, blood, flaws, and also the wisdom not to get them killed. Signed ---S.”  
> (included is also a drawing of a wolf giving a "thumbs up" with one of its paws)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm rather new to writing fan fiction, but a good friend of mine said I should give it a shot. I told her "but my writing style sounds like an old man from the 1800's recounting a fairytale he was told in his youth!" and she replied "So write a fairy tale!" and here you have it!


End file.
